GEOF BROWN... died September 22 after suffering from lymphoma.

Back in my rebellious teenage years my fourth-form history teacher, with a depth of insight I came to appreciate much later in life, described me as a "delicate ginger plant within an M-16". She might as well have been referring to my father Geoffrey Brown.

Far from being harmful, his artillery was merely a thin shield to guard the softest of hearts. He left this earth just as he entered it: with an exceedingly kind and gentle soul. His occasionally gruff exterior might have fooled some. The rest of us knew him too well.

No one understood him better than his best friend and wife of almost 40 years, my mother Janet Brown. From a child's perspective, some of their obvious differences made them seem like an odd pair. With time, not only did I understand the bond that held their strong union together, I respected and cherished it deeply.

If my mother taught me to eat humble pie, my father taught me to strut my stuff without reservation. From her I learnt quiet acceptance of that which I cannot change, from him the chutzpah to challenge that which I can.

Whenever my confidence fell, my father was there to help me pick it up. This began early in my childhood. When I was a bit intimidated by kindergarten, my father initiated "secret" phonics and reading sessions with me every evening until I felt more secure.

As the youngest person in my Master's programme and later as a junior professional starting my career with UNICEF, I drew motivation from stories of 21-year-old Geof Brown, Jamaica's youngest primary school principal. So impressed were they with that bright, dedicated young man, the school board convinced the Ministry of Education to bend the rules, allowing my father to take on a role reserved for someone much older.

It was my father's love for journalism which inspired me to study communication and his obsession with politics that sparked my interest in world events. In our household, not one sound would be tolerated once local news began on TV.
At most other times, my father was glued to a constant stream of current affairs programmes and international news. For his sake, I hope there's CNN in heaven.

Above all else, my father was a true social worker. He spent over two decades in Canada fighting to protect the rights and the welfare of the poor, the abused and minorities. He rolled up his sleeves at work in marginalised communities, intervened to help families in crisis and mentored young people losing their way in life.

In Jamaica, he headed the Social Welfare Training Centre at UWI and was instrumental in founding the HEART agency and the AFS intercultural exchange programme. He was a very active member of the Rotary Club and the lodge. Over his lifetime, he served on too many boards and committees and supported too many social causes to count. He poured himself into everything he did with remarkably hard work and unbreakable discipline.

A man who once worked as a janitor to help finance his way through school, my father treated everyone he met - people of all hues, social standing and background - with a common and unfailing decency and respect. He was generous to a fault. Once, when a man from the Tavern community lost his house to flooding, my father lent him his car for almost four months.

Over the last few days, our phones have been ringing non-stop. Our e-mail inboxes are flooded. The tremendous outpouring of support and well wishes from near and far is evidence of the adage that my father lived by and insisted on throughout our lives: "Good friend better than pocket money." He built and nurtured an extensive social network over various countries and several years. He was a good and fiercely loyal friend to many.

Geoffrey Brown was more than a list of credentials or a sum of accomplishments. He was a man of honour and integrity. He was a man of greatness, to which many aspire and precious few attain.

My father, in his own words, had a good run. Rest in peace, Daddy.

Allison Hickling is acting communication specialist at UNICEF Jamaica.
allison.hickling@gmail.com

To our readers: We place this column in tribute to Geof Brown who never failed to fill this slot on a Friday unless he was very ill. He died last Monday. Allison is the youngest of his five daughters.

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